Simple Fact
by dfastback68
Summary: IDW. After the events of Devastation, the loyalty of the Terrorcons is called into question. Prepping for an interrogation, Vortex reads their files. Refers to/spoilers for Devastation and Spotlight: Sixshot.


A/N: _Written for the Loyalty Challenge at the crimson_optics comm on Livejournal. Special thanks to antepathy for being my beta!_

* * *

The console bleeped, and Vortex repressed a sigh as the report he was working on vanished under a new case file. It was flagged as urgent, and he was expected to appear at 0500. Frag, that wasn't a lot of prep time. Less than two cycles, _and _it was an internal conflict. Autobots were easier, because there were fewer repercussions for damaging them.

Vortex glossed over the details of the primary mission in question, that ended with Sixshot's disappearance. Previously unknown group of assailants, self-designated the Reapers. Two fatalities on the Decepticon side. All known assailants neutralized and destroyed. Circumstances still under investigation. Assailants prepositioned Sixshot to join them, who complied. Both visual and audio evidence of a defection. Sixshot then targeted Starscream, who overrode his primary controls with a reset code. Sixshot went down, as expected, and then missing in the ensuing battle.

There was a list of leads, each one tagged to another unit, depending on their location, availability and specialization. Vortex was assigned an internal interrogation of the Terrorcons, method of his discretion. The case was being overseen by, of course, Banzaitron, and Razorclaw. That latter was fine so long as he didn't attempt to interfere; Vortex was all too aware of the animosity between Razorclaw and Hun-Grrr.

A lot questions still remained – had Sixshot acted on his own free will? Would he have opened fire on Starscream, given the opportunity? None of these were actually Vortex's primary concern, but they would remain in the back of his cortex. The Terrorcons were the only consistent contacts of Sixshot, and his apparent defection swung the spotlight onto them. Had they known? Were they part of it? Would they follow him, wherever he went? Or, on the other side of things, had they somehow engineered the entire thing to force Sixshot out? If so, why?

First, he needed to evaluate each Terrorcon before looking at them as a team, and then their relationship with Sixshot. He had been granted full access to each of the Terrorcon's profiles, but parts of Sixshot's were still locked. Not a big surprise, but something he might have to work around.

Vortex started from the bottom of the Terrorcon hierarchy: Blot. A soldier in every sense of the word. Completely unimaginative, no initiative, and, by all rights, expendable. He had a handful of commendations, with several complaints lodged against him, all of them concerning his lack of hygiene maintenance. None of them were put in by his own teammates, so Vortex discarded them. Blot rarely went on missions apart from the other Terrorcons. No one requested him because there was always another expendable option. One that knew how to get a regular hydraulic fluid flush.

Almost all of the commendations came from his commander, Hun-Grrr. One came from a long-since deceased officer, the other someone Vortex knew only by name, whose commendation read like it was the most painful thing the supervising mech had ever written. So, everyone besides his commander was hesitant to compliment him on a job well done. His success rate was high, marred only by occasional incompetence, which, he noted, were typically bureaucratic in nature. Blot was a soldier not suited for paperwork of any kind.

Only one negative mark stood out against him. On one occasion, he had willfully ignored a direct order from High Command in favor of seeing Hun-Grrr's instructions to the end. The orders had been contradictory, and Blot had chosen, according to the mission specs, the wrong one. Since then, Blot had apparently learned the proper chain of command, as the error did not occur again. Blot, Vortex decided, was only capable of treason if he was ordered to do it.

Cutthroat's file popped up next. He knew this one was a problem from first hand experience. Cutthroat didn't sit well under any authority, and had been incarcerated at Stix twice. _Both_ times at the request of his own commander. That, Vortex thought, was harsh. A real discipline problem, with the claws and cunning to get away with it for as long as he could. Numerous complaints filed against him, including verbal, physical _and_ substance abuse. He seemed to have an issue rationing his energon.

Most of the complaints, Vortex saw, were put in by Seekers. That wasn't entirely unusual; he'd met more than a few Seekers who claimed the skies as theirs alone, sneering down on any other flight capable unit, Decepticon or not. Vortex could sympathize – to a point. He didn't go looking for fights with them, and his employment under Banzaitron meant he didn't have to deal with them much. On quite a few incident reports, Cutthroat had openly admitted to starting the fight.

Not exactly the best candidate for Cybertron's Most Loyal, or most reliable. But his mission success rating was still high, despite some obvious botches on his part. When he did mind orders, he excelled. So why the rebellion? Cutthroat would require a hefty dose of work to break, and Vortex had no intention of expending that much energy. There was a more efficient way to do this – and Cutthroat wasn't it.

Third on the roster: Sinnertwin. This was an easy one. His relationship with Hun-Grrr predated the war, and the entire Decepticon faction. He remembered the first time he'd seen them, fighting side by side at Clench's underground arena in Kaon. Hun-Grrr, not surprisingly, had led him into it. Sinnertwin had always dogged at his heels, always agreed with what he said, what he did. Trustworthy, but Vortex wondered; was there any jealousy? Hero worship contaminated by contempt?

Despite a clean record where discipline and loyalty were concerned, he was still a wild card. There were gaps in his file, though Vortex had full clearance to see every horrible thing any of the Terrorcons had been guilty of committing. The gaps were a bit disconcerting, because it meant a vital piece of a puzzle was purposely missing. There was no way to know if it was directly related to the case or not. Vortex tentatively leaned toward it being irrelevant, since it was his medical history that was incomplete.

He was not, Vortex gathered, entirely stable. His primary acting medic chose her words carefully, omitting details about his psychological state that roused suspicions. Had they been left out to protect him? Someone else? Sinnertwin, Vortex remembered, had always seemed somewhat skittish, always looking over his shoulder. Probably some sort of delusional paranoia, a diagnosis that might cost him clearance to operate on the battle field. Vortex made a note to request the most current logs of video surveillance near his quarters – if he knew anything about committing treason, he would show it in his behavior.

Now, Rippersnapper, Hun-Grrr's second in command. Someone with a temper worse than Cutthroat's, except he focused it better on the field. He was described as difficult to work with by other field commanders, arrogant and standoffish. Really, Vortex thought, weren't they used to dealing with those traits by now? He was recommended for solo missions, and was currently the sole contact for an outsourced weapon smith. He'd research that one later.

He was incredibly vocal about his hatred for all things organic, something that had no doubt gotten worse since leaving Cybertron. Sentient mechanical lifeforms like themselves, they had learned, were rare and anomalous. Rippersnapper was not the only Decepticon suffering from xenophobia, but he was one of the few who broadcast it to all who would listen. He would have to see if any of the assailants – the Reapers – had organics in their ranks.

All told, Rippersnapper performed competently when under pressure. Perhaps not as quick or resourceful as Hun-Grrr, considering he operated better independently, but a reliable second. His position provided some insight on how Hun-Grrr operated his own team, as well. Out of all of them, Hun-Grrr was the most emotionally attached to and involved with Sinnertwin – yet favoritism did not land him the second in command position. He was third only because Cutthroat could not take an order to save his chassis, and Blot had no leadership incentive whatsoever.

So, looking at Hun-Grrr himself. He had been incarcerated several times himself, with one count of enemy fraternization, but mostly for breaching protocol during an infiltration phase. Given his typical strategy, stealth and blending were not his strong suits, and his time in the penitentiary had been short. Just a slap on the wrist, which he had then twisted into a formal complaint in front of High Command for misuse of resources. It had, in the end, voted in his favor.

Since then, his team had only been deployed for Phase Five or Six scenarios. Hun-Grrr refused to adapt to the early infiltration system. He was intelligent, but not overly ambitious. He was cunning, but kept himself sidelined from the top brass. No doubt he was greedy, hoarding his subordinates' talents to serve his own mission goals. He knew how to lead his team, how to win a battle, and had been devoted to Megatron since the early days in Kaon.

But was he a traitor?

It was where his file intersected with Sixshot's that Vortex saw the seeds of doubt. The disaster on Mumu-Obscura was an unparalleled failure on the part of the Terrorcons; so much so that they'd been removed from active duty for at least a quarter vorn. Their reports were obviously falsified, confused and contradictory. He noted that one attempt was made to reconcile the mission files, but it had never gone through. What had stopped it?

Sixshot's involvement at Mumu-Obscura was a mystery in and of itself. He had not been on duty, yet he'd gone in after the Terrorcons, citing no reason other than honest boredom. Vortex saw no lie there – a war machine that wasn't engaged in battle had little else to do to fill its time. His presence at the command hub demoralized anyone that was near him, so it was almost a blessing that the Terrorcons had botched their mission.

In the final report, Hun-Grrr has stated the indigenous population had turned against itself in order to purge them from their home, but Vortex had rarely heard of such a suicidal tactic. The first of many bizarre errors within those mission reports. Still, irreparable damage had been done to the planet, and the Terrorcons had been hit hard, unable to escape the surface. At some point, their ship had been destroyed. By the time Sixshot arrived, according to Hun-Grrr, there were no more insurgents, and they were able to safely leave the planet with him. Except... Sixshot had returned with chemical burns and excessive heat damage, inconsistent with even the ravaged atmosphere of the planet.

Again, gaps in medical history appeared, this time on a mission file. Oddly enough, Sixshot had been treated by the same medic as Sinnertwin. There was something there, alright. Even if it wasn't related to the case, he would still flag the medic for review.

Vortex put in the summons for Hun-Grrr. It was his intention to start with him, and end with him. Blot was incapable of acting on his own, and Cutthroat could not support himself without the team. Sinnertwin only needed to be scrutinized for suspicious behaviors if Hun-Grrr gave him reason to doubt their devotion to the cause. Same thing with Rippersnapper – his outside contacts needed to be collected. Ultimately, however, all of them answered to Hun-Grrr.

Vortex checked his chronometer – one cycle left. Damn.

He shut off the monitor and blocked his comm system, pushing away from the console. Hun-Grrr was going to be angry, resentful of the summons. He was going to clam up when he saw Vortex, every little guilty transgression he'd ever had would well up in him. Hun-Grrr was used to dealing with raw, visceral emotion, feelings that played out clearly in everything the Terrorcons did. Vortex would have to consider retracting his battle mask, a level of privacy he was never fond of giving up.

Trust me, he would say. I'm on your side. Not out loud: it's just, unfortunately, High Command doesn't think you're on _our_ side right now. Until I know otherwise, I'm your friend. We're both Decepticons, we both believe in the same thing. We have something in common. I do my job, you do yours. Simple fact of life, friend.

Whether you know something or not, you'll tell me. Whether you say anything or not, I'll have my answers.

"Trust me," he said to the reflection in the dead monitor. "I'm on your side."


End file.
